The
two full cantos on Mercury are fascinating and interconnected, though the
connectivity is not apparent. In Canto
VI the Roman Emperor Justinian recounts the history of ancient Rome and links
that history as an essential prerequisite to the advent and crucifixion of
Christ. God didn’t have to make it so,
but He did for a reason. In Canto VII we
get a theological understanding of why God chose to have His incarnate Son
undergo as a sacrificial offering as the means for the redemption of
mankind. On the surface there doesn’t
seem to be any connection between the two cantos, but let’s look deeper.
Justinian
(also known as Justinian I, also known as Justinian the Great) was emperor of
Roman Empire from 527 to his death in 585.
If he had lived a hundred years before, he would have been known as
Emperor of the Eastern Half of the Empire, and probably one of two emperors,
one for the east and one for the west, but in 476 the western half collapsed
and was run over by Germanic tribes and divided into individual kingdoms headed
by Germanic rulers. So Justinian was the
sole emperor of what remained of the Roman Empire. This eastern half would later be referred to
as the Byzantine Empire, but even when it was referred to as such, its citizens
referred to themselves as “Romanoi”
or in English, Romans all the way to its final demise in 1453. So the Roman Empire survived an incredible
span from 27 BC to 1453 AD, some 1480 years.
And that doesn’t include the Roman Republic before the empire.
From
Justinian’s point of view, the Roman west had only collapsed fifty years
before, so it was within the realm of possibility to reconstitute its original
integrity. He assigned the job of
conquering the lost lands to his great general, Belisarius (mentioned in line
25 of Canto VI), and he did a remarkable job gathering back at least half of
what was lost. By the time Justinian and
Belisarius were done, they had incorporated back North Africa and the Italian
peninsula. Unfortunately troops were
needed in the east to defend against the Persians and there just wasn’t enough
manpower to recapture the rest of the west.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, or even in a lifetime, and Justinian wasn’t
going to be able to reconstitute it in a lifetime. Holding on to the recaptured lands would also
be short lived after Justinian’s death because what held the empire together
was a shared identity, and now the demographics of the old Roman west had their
own specific Germanic identities. Still
Justinian’s accomplishment was stunning and ambitious, which is why Dante has
him limited to the sphere of Mercury, for those who on earth overvalued ambition
and justice over humility and mercy.
Which
brings us to Justinian’s other great accomplishment, the synthetization of the
vast Roman law that had accumulated through the centuries, going back to Rome’s
founding. Justinian organized it and
synthesized it into a harmonious up-to-date body of jurisprudence that came to
be known as Corpus Juris Civilis, or
sometimes referred to as the Code of Justinian.
This was perhaps just as a remarkable achievement as the conquests in
the west, and it had a more lasting impact.
Most continental European law systems today are based on the Code of
Justinian, as well as the canon law of the Roman Catholic Church. It continues today to influence law systems,
and so you can see why Dante places Justinian in the sphere of Mercury.
Now
you can also see why Justinian is so important in Dante’s themes. The Roman Empire in Dante’s view was critical
to the advent of Christ and it showed the proper organization of human
government and justice, which is one of Dante’s three overarching themes in the
Divine Comedy. Dante (the author) believed Justinian was so
important that he has the character stretche from the end of Canto V all the
way to the beginning of Canto VII.
Indeed he has Justinian be the sole, uninterrupted speaker of an entire
canto (Canto VI), a privilege no other character is given, not Virgil, not even
Beatrice. Justinian’s canto is a
recapitulation of Roman history and his life achievements, but they are cast in
a theological framework which suggests so much more.
With
that background, there’s no need to review Justinian’s scan of Roman
history. Its selectiveness is
interesting, and one could probably do an essay on the significance of each detail
he chooses to enumerate. The symbol of
the eagle as the Roman standard I believe is a motif that runs throughout the Commedia, and comes to a culmination
further in Paradiso. And we can see how Justinian’s Roman history
culminates into the reigns of Augustus when Jesus is born and Tiberius when
Jesus is crucified. He goes on further in
the history to the destruction of the Jewish Temple under Titus, which
completes the double “vengeance” indicated in lines 92 and 93. Personally I think “vengeance” here is a
poorly chosen word but all the translations I’ve seen seem to use it. Does God enact vengeance? God enacts justice, but leave that as it
may. The double vengeance is the
retribution to the Jews for having Christ crucified and the retribution to
humanity for Adam’s sin.
Then
Justinian skips seven hundred years, including his reign and the realm of the
Byzantine east, all the way to the crowning of Charlemagne as Holy Roman
emperor. It is important for Dante to
get to Charlemagne because that is for him the reconstitution in the west of
proper civil government. With
Charlemagne the Holy Roman Empire is established, and the politics of Dante’s
day deal with the degeneration from that Holy Roman ideal,
which were a reflection of the ancient Roman ideal, with the Ghibelline and
Guelph factions. The civil order of his
time for Dante are a corruption of the Roman ideal.
But
there’s more. Dante (the author) has
Justinian give a fascinating detail about himself which is actually not
historically true. So in referring to
the “hard task” of synthesizing the ancient laws, Justinian says:
'Before I had set my mind
to that hard task
I believed Christ had but
a single nature,
and not a second, and was
content in that belief.
'But the blessèd
Agapetus,
the most exalted of our
shepherds,
brought me to the true
faith with his words.
'I believed him. What he
held by faith
I now see just as clearly
as you understand
that any contradiction is
both false and true. (VI. 13-21)
Dante
has Justinian claim that he believed Christ had only a single nature, the
Monophysite heresy, that Christ had only one nature, not both God and man. There is no historical evidence for
this. Now Dante was either under the
wrong impression or took literary liberty here.
Either way, Dante did not have to include this detail, and if he consciously
took literary leave then he intended to suggest something significant. The various Germanic kingdoms that had taken
over the western half of the empire believed in some form of Monophysitism,
mostly Arianism, as Justinian says of himself.
With widespread Arianism we see a degeneration from orthodoxy. But Justinian in the text claims that Agapetus,
the Pope in Rome, converted him from the heresy. So when Justinian creates the new law code
and presumably sets Belisarius to reconstitute the old Roman Empire, he is in
the orthodox belief of Christ’s two natures of both man and God.
When
we get to Canto VII and Beatrice explains why God chose to redeem mankind
through His incarnated Son, Dante (the author) has established a number of
dualities. We are ready then for the
central tenet of Christianity to be presented:
As a result, for
centuries the human race
lay sick in an abyss of
error
until the Word of God
chose to descend,
'uniting human nature,
estranged now
from its Maker, with
Himself in His own person
by a single act of His
eternal Love. (VII. 28-33)
First
notice how the redemptive crucifixion occurs in line 33 of the poem. Do you think that’s an coincidence? Of course not. With Beatrice’s “for centuries the human
race/lay sick in an abyss of error,” she is recapitulating a history prior to
Christ just as Justinian recapitulated in the previous canto. The “abyss of error” is a decayed state from
the Edenic ideal, of which God corrects with Christ, just as He corrects civil
government with the formation of the Roman Empire. And the two, Christ and the Empire, reach
their pinnacle at the same moment in time.
Justice and mercy are coupled together here perfectly.
Justinian
then when he is converted from Monophysitism to orthodox Christianity is
enlightened into the dual nature of Christ.
But notice who converts Justinian, the vicar of Rome, Christ’s
representative on Earth. So what we have
is an ecclesiastical head coming in union with a civil head to formulate the
ideal. The two form a marriage of civil
and ecclesiastical leadership. Indeed
there are a whole slew of dualities that run through these two cantos: God and
man, Christ in His double nature, Pope and Emperor, justice and charity, heaven
and earth, flesh and spirit, ambition and humility, religion and state, Christ
and Tiberius, Guelph and Ghibelline.
The
ideal for earthly governance for Dante then is a marriage of state and
religion. It is not a separation of
religion and state, as we speak of today.
It is not an empowering of one over the other. It is of an equal marriage, man and wife
acting in concert, which is a reflection of Christ’s double nature of God and
man. It proposes justice and it proposes
charity working in unison. It is of
heart and mind. One leads its citizens
to heaven while the other establishes a society so that its citizens can
flourish to be worthy of heaven.
Which
brings us to the decay of Dante’s day. The
Guelphs and Ghibellines are factions which side with one of the head entities,
the Guelphs with the Pope, the Ghibellines with the Emperor. The current state of Dante’s society has
become one where a perverse fight for an immoral imbalance between what should
be equal entities. The theological abyss
of error prior to Christ is now an abyss of error of civil governance. The God willed Pax Romana stands as the ideal from which decay occurred on either
side of its timeline.
###
Some
random thoughts on these cantos.
Fading
into the other dancing lights, Justinian sings:
'Osanna, sanctus Deus sabaoth,
superillustrans claritate tua
felices ignes horum malacoth!' -- (VII.1-3)
Translation:
“Hosanna, Holy God of hosts/who by Thy brightness doth illuminate from
above/the happy fires of those realms.”
The integration of Hebrew and Latin words creates another duality, that
of two languages.
This
tercet needs to be highlighted in the Italian.
Io dubitava e dicea
"Dille, dille!"
fra me, "dille"
dicea, "a la mia donna
che mi diseta con le
dolci stille." (VII.10-12)
Italian
is not known for alliteration but Dante decides to show off his skill
here. Hollander translates this as:
I was in doubt, saying to
myself, 'Tell her,
tell her,' saying to
myself, 'tell this to my lady,
who slakes my thirst with
her sweet drops.'
Dante
(the character) here is speaking to himself.
At this point he realizes Beatrice can read his mind so instead of
speaking directly to her he speaks to himself to tell himself to let her
know. It’s rather playful by Dante (the
author), both the alliterative flourish and babbling to oneself.
The
third question in Canto VII is rather interesting. Why do things that God creates degenerate and
die? I’ve never heard Beatrice’s
explanation that direct creations are immortal while indirect die. Has anyone?
It sounds like something that might come from St. Thomas Aquinas. Or Dante made it up.
How
wonderful that Dante (the character) sees Beatrice turn more beautiful as they
enter the planet Venus.
I had not been aware of
rising to that star,
but was assured of being
in it
when I observed my lady
turn more beautiful. (VIII.13-15)
And
when he enters Venus, as with the moon and Mercury, he sees dancing lights,
which are spirits under that planet’s influence. But I love the double simile he uses to
describe it here:
And, as one sees a spark
within a flame
or hears, within a song,
a second voice,
holding its note while
the other comes and goes,
so I saw within that
light still other lights,
swifter and slower in
their circling motions,
it seemed in measure to
their inner sight. (VIII. 16-21)
As
sparks inside a flame or a particular voice inside a chorus, so he sees
singular lights inside the planetary light.
When
one light drew near and spoke, he introduces the planetary spirits in the most
loving way:
Then one, alone, drew nearer and
began:
'All of us desire to bring you pleasure
so that you may in turn delight in us.
(VIII.31-33)
Have
you ever had a friend or group of friends you just love to sit with and
talk? Each person in that group delights
in each other’s company. This is perfect
friendship, and this is what the spirit is proposing. Next time you find yourself in a delightful
conversation with friends, notice how you brighten (metaphorically) just as
those souls in paradise brighten (literally) in their conversations.
The
spirit is Charles Martel, and as we said earlier, not the Charles Martel that
was the King of the Franks and grandfather to Charlemagne, but one who lived
some five hundred years later and apparently had been a friend of Dante. Charles’ discourse on the nature of begetting
a variety of children seems like a fitting subject for one on the planet of
love. But I have to admit it’s unclear
to me what Charles did in his lifetime that would place him under the influence
of Venus. It doesn’t appear to be
stated.
We
are quite clear, however, why the next spirit who comes forward is under
Venus. Cunizza da Romano was a woman who
I picture to be similar to Elizabeth Taylor, women who had many lovers and many
husbands. One of her lovers turns out to
have been the poet Sordello who we met in Purgatorio. But Cunizza apparently had a late in life
conversion experience and not only reformed but gave away all her money and
worldly possessions.
I
think a wonderful comparison could be made between Cunizza and Francesca da
Rimmi who with her adulterous lover Paolo were consigned in the second circle
of hell, that of lust. Cunizza had many
lovers; Francesca but one. Cunizza
treated marriage like a stepping stone to power and wealth; Francesca was
forced to marry for political reasons to a cripple. Several of Cunizza’s lovers were used for
personal gain; Francesca truly fell in love with Paolo. Cunizza lived to an old age, giving her time
to repent; Francesca was killed by her husband as a relatively young woman and
suddenly, not having the time to repent.
Cunizza did truly repent; Francesca was hardened in the
self-righteousness of her actions.
Cunizza is in heaven; Francesca is in hell. “Today if ye will hear his voice, harden not
your hearts” (Heb 4:7, which is alluding to Ps 95:8).
The
last light to step up to Dante in Venus is the spirit of Folco di Marsiglia, a
bishop and so I assume why he is ruby red.
Folco had quite a history in his long life. He was a love poet and a playboy, and so the
rationale for being under the influence of Venus. But he was also a Dominican friar when the
order was just created by St. Dominic.
He was involved in combatting the Albigensian heresy, which is why
Dominicans were first formed, but unlike St. Dominic Folco actually served as a
soldier when the crusade to stomp out Albigensianism turned into a fighting
war.
When
Dante (the character) first sees Folco, he sees him sparkle "in the bright
rays of the sun" (l.69). Which
leads Dante to ponder:
There above, brightness
is gained by joy,
as is laughter here, but
down below
a shade shows dark when
sadness clouds its mind. (IX.70-72)
That's
an interesting tercet. Above, meaning in
heaven, joy makes one brighter; back on earth joy brings laughter, though
personally I think I would translate "riso" here as smiles, joy
brings us to smile. But down below a
shade grows darker when sad when he is made aware of his state. As Hollander points out in the commentary of
my translation, we never actually see that in Inferno.
Dante's
address to Folco is startling:
'God sees all, and your
sight is so in-Himmed,
blessèd spirit,' I said,
'that no wish of any kind
is able to conceal itself
from you.
'Why then does your
voice, which ever pleases Heaven,
together with the singing
of those loving flames
that form their cowls
from their six wings,
'not offer my desires
their satisfaction?
I would not await your
question
if I in-you'd me as you
in-me'd you.' (IX.73-81)
It
took me a while to understand that.
Dante is prodding, or perhaps lightly chiding, (does one chide in
heaven?) Folco for not answering the question that are in Dante's thoughts,
given that spirits in heaven can read minds.
He tells Folco that Folco's sight is "in-Himmed," meaning it
works within the mind of God, and since God can read all minds, so then can
Folco through God. And then in the last
two lines of that sequence Dante says, if the roles were reversed and he were
in Folco's position and Folco in his, and Dante could read Folco's mind
("I in-me'd you") as he can read Dante's (you “in-you'd me") he
would not be so tardy in answering. This
is great play both in poeticism and friendly jest. Dante is creating these terms
("in-Himmed," "in-you'd," and "in-me'd" because
this mind reading phenomena does not exist on earth, so there are no real language
for it. And how appropriate that one
poet wordplays with another.
It
is also fitting that the greatest spirit under Venus is Rahab, who though a
prostitute aided Joshua (Book of Joshua) in the conquest of the Promised Land.
She, like Cunizza and Folco, is redeemed by her actions. Some have seen her as a prefiguring of Mother
Mary in that she delivers Joshua into the Holy Land as the Virgin delivers
Christ. Interesting that Mary is an
eternal Virgin and Rahab was a prostitute, a sort of inverse of each other. Rahab is also listed in Matthew's genealogy
as being in Jesus' lineage (Mat 1:5).
I hope you and your family are keeping well.
ReplyDeleteGod bless.